


A Lost Friend

by Fangirl_Deluxe14



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - World War II, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2018-04-16
Packaged: 2019-04-23 16:48:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14336820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fangirl_Deluxe14/pseuds/Fangirl_Deluxe14
Summary: Sherlock is appointed to go with the 2nd Ranger Battalion June 6th, 1944, on D-Day, alongside Private John H. Watson.





	A Lost Friend

**Author's Note:**

> This was written three years ago, originally for a school project ... Oh well ... Enjoy

It started as just an ordinary day for the Holmes family. The little family was made up by Siger, the father, Violet, the mother, and their two sons, Mycroft and Sherlock. Mycroft was already enrolled to the army in 1939, but Sherlock didn't turn 18 until 1943. Violet had already lost one of her sons to the war, and she wasn't eager to get Sherlock enrolled as well, so she hid him in their house in the outskirts of London. Not that Sherlock _wanted_ to go into the army, anyways. The British police knocked on their door and asked for Sherlock Holmes. They had gotten a search warrant to get him, and barged right into their humble establishment. Or,  _humble_ and  _humble_ , Siger did hold a position in the government, so they had a fair amount of money.

When they found Sherlock, Violet sat in the dining room, crying. She didn't want to lose her other son, not after what had happened to Mycroft. The position he had been in, had been bombed during The Battle of Britain. He was in the air force. She could only sit and watch as her son was dragged out of the house.

Sherlock was sent directly to the training camps. The officers saw potential in him, so he was trained as an elite soldier, and in March 1944 he was enlisted as an official member of the 2nd Ranger battalion, led by Lieutenant Colonel James E. Rudder. He was well welcomed by the other members of the battalion, and he managed to make quite a few friends. One of these friends was private John H. Watson. He was originally enlisted to be a doctor, but because of his supreme skills during battle he was sent to 2nd Ranger battalion.

Early morning June 6, 1944, Sherlock, John and the rest of the 2nd Ranger battalion was sent towards the Pointe Du Hoc, together with Max Schneider and his 5th Ranger battalion. They were going to take over the German battery at the top. But something went horribly wrong. They were sent on time, but the trip took longer than planned, and their brothers in arms, the 5th Ranger battalion, turned to face their secondary goal. Sherlock and the rest of the 225 men that were ready, were sent to the top of the cliff. The wall was porous, and the men climbed with what they had their hands on.

When they were halfway towards the top, the Germans in the battery noticed that something was happening. They hasted together their best gunmen and went to the edge of the cliff. They looked down and was met with a horrible sight. 225 allied elite soldiers were steadily climbing towards them. They stood petrified for a few seconds, but their boss shook them out of it by shouting "Come on, don't be just a bag of bones, get a move on!" The Germans then began shooting the soldiers.

Sherlock and John were two of the last men that were going to make the climb towards the top. They had already seen many men fall in front of them, shot down by the Germans. As the gap between them and the cliff shrunk, they saw boats with ladders on top, with their best sharpshooters at the top. Sherlock and John climbed side by side towards the top of the cliff. When they eventually got to the top, they ran for their lives to the craters the bombs had created earlier on. They fought their way forward, inch by inch, whilst they could only watch their comrades get shot and killed. The only noticeable sounds were the shots from the machineguns and the muffled screams of fallen soldiers. When they got so close that a frontal assault would be possible, they got support from the air forces. Finally, things would go their way, once again.

When the attack of Pointe du Hoc was coming to an end, the worst possible thing, in Sherlock's eyes, at least, happened. Sherlock and John never left each others side, and they had gotten through most of the operation. Then, disaster happened. John was shot. He and Sherlock were stationed behind the battery, where they thought they'd be out of sight. John H. Watson had been shot in the left shoulder. Luckily, Sherlock had gotten thorough explanations from John what he was to do if someone was shot in the upper body, without hitting any vital organs. He was to hold pressure to the wound and keep the "patient" awake. Sherlock ripped off the sleeve of John's uniform and tied it over the wound while he kept talking to John. It was as if John's life was slipping out of Sherlock's hands.

Sherlock lifted John off of the ground and into the battery. They had gotten the signal that the attack was over while Sherlock tended to John, so he knew it was safe. John was a good man, and he knew his comrades would do what they could to help.

Sherlock had been shot in the foot and was shipped back to England with John. The shot in the foot  _might_ have been done by Sherlock, to not have to be separated from John. The two were inseparable on their way back to London. When they eventually got to London, they were sent to St. Bartholomew's hospital. They were put in the same room, next to each other.

As soon as Violet got the letter that said that Sherlock was at St. Barts, she brought Siger there. When she got there, she went to the receptionist and asked for a William Sherlock Scott Holmes.

"Room 221b, the second floor in the b-wing," the receptionist told her. Siger and Violet almost ran to the room. They knocked on the door and heard about 10 voices that said "Come in" and went into the room. Sherlock's face immediately lit up when he saw that the visit was for him. As much as he didn't want to admit it, he had missed his parents immensely. He didn't feel too bad, but they had him here for observation. He could talk absolutely fine and wanted to present his family to John, who had just woken to see what the fuzz was about.

"John, this is my family. Siger, my father, and Violet, my mother. Mother, father, this is Private John H. Watson. he was one of my best friends during training"

"Hello, Private Watson," Siger said.

"Please, call me John, and it's a pleasure to meet you," John answered.

"What happened to you two? All it said in the letter we received, was that you had been sent here."

"We were both shot during an operation to capture a cliff," John explained.  
"Well, I'm just glad you're here, and safe," Violet sighed.

John had been seated in his bed, but now he fell over. Violet jumped and ran to get a nurse or a doctor. But when the doctor arrived, it was too late. John H. Watson was dead, a  _lost friend._

**Author's Note:**

> As always, kudos and comments are dearly appreciated!


End file.
